


Perfect

by featheredschist



Series: Avengers in Song [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Songfic, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:58:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/featheredschist/pseuds/featheredschist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AN – This is the first in an open series of song fics. Relationships will change, based on how I feel when I hear a particular song and what wells up at that time. None of these are outwardly connected to any verse I've currently created and am writing in. Most will be one-shots. Where there's a second chapter is where there's a response or reply (like in this one) from the other side of the pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> How Tony really feels about Bruce, as discovered in a song.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Do not own the song, lyrics, or recognizable characters appearing in these fics. Please don't sue because I have an overactive imagination! Warnings for this one, it's the explicit version of the song lyrics, and of course, the title carries a curse word. I left it as “Perfect” so I didn't get a warning from our site hosts!

Tony was working on the Iron Man armor, again, distracted by thoughts of the shaggy physicist in the neighboring lab. His music of choice that day, modern radio of all things. “JARVIS, which artist is this?”, he asks, half his attention on the gauntlet in his hands.  
“I believe sir, it is the rock artist known as P!nk, the song is 'Fucking Perfect', though this is not the explicit version,” is the near immediate response.  
“Download and place that then, if you will,” Tony demands, dropping the gauntlet to the tabletop and assuming a listening pose as the opening chords of the song start again.

_Made a wrong turn, once or twice; Dug my way out, blood and fire_  
 _Bad decisions, that's alright; Welcome to my silly life_  
 _Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood; Miss 'no way, it's all good'_  
 _It didn't slow me down; Mistaken, always second guessing_  
 _Underestimating, look I'm still around_

And Tony sat bolt upright, head cocked to one side, listening hard to the lyrics. JARVIS took initiative and cleared a screen to scroll them up for his creator to read in time to the song.  
“J-man, pipe this over to Bruce's lab, quietly. Background level,” he requests when the song has reached the second chorus. The AI complies silently. Tony has to stand and move towards his door to see into Bruce's lab. He made a mental note to change the wall to Gorilla Glass as soon as he could. Or maybe he needed to create 'Hulk Glass'? He was getting off track. He needed to watch Bruce.

 

Bruce was working on gene splicing, hoping to turn out hardier crops for farming. Something that didn't require a lot of water, and was resistant to insects. He was so distracted, he didn't notice the quiet song until the third loop through. When he does, it's on the chorus.

_Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel; Like you're less than fucking perfect_  
 _Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel; Like you're nothing, you're fucking perfect, to me_

And he's instantly reminded of that morning, in bed, with a certain, incredibly sexy engineer, who whispered between slow, hot kisses, “God, you're too fucking perfect.” His mouth goes dry at the memory, even as he attempts to find a better place to pause in his work, silently thanking God for JARVIS. Speaking of...  
“JARVIS, what is this song?”, he asked the AI, turning completely away from the desk.  
“A piece of modern rock expressionism called 'Fucking Perfect', by the artist, P!nk, sir. Mr. Stark requested the broadcast.,” JARVIS explained, cool as a cucumber, as always.  
“Ah, did he now? And Mr. Stark is where, just now?”, Bruce couldn't be surprised. Tony had been on a modern music kick lately. But why this particular one? He asks the AI, who provides the lyrics. Bruce reads the words, thinking about how they were meant, from Tony.

He heard the lines, “Change the voices in your head, make them like you instead” and snorted a quiet laugh and muttered, “Not that easy” under his breath. Bruce sighed, thinking. Only a few minutes pass before he made up his mind.  
“JARVIS, is it too late to make reservations at Roma, tonight at 7?”, he asked, checking the clock on the far wall. He hadn't caught on to Tony's spying.  
“I will make the necessary inquiries, Doctor. May I suggest speaking with Mr. Stark? He appears to be attempting to achieve the look of a giraffe at the door of his lab,” JARVIS admitted.

Bruce turned to look out the window set in his door, and could see the flash of movement from Tony trying to keep himself while still able to see through the pair of glass rectangles. He smiles, thinking that the image only makes Tony appear unsure, instead of cocksure like he usually is.  
“JARVIS, open the intercom.” There's a beep signalling the task done. “Tony, get in here,” he calls. There's a startled look and then the man practically teleports into Bruce's lab.  
“You rang?”, he asks, in a deep, sepulchral voice, but wide, tooth baring grin on his face.  
“Ass. So the point of my serenade?” Bruce laughed.  
“Just reinforcing an item from this morning's discussion,” Tony quips, pacing over to where Bruce stood by the edge of his desk.  
“Oh? This morning's discussion had something important? Perhaps you can reiterate that detail to me, over dinner?”, JARVIS interrupts him, to confirm his choice, “At Roma”.

And he has his arms full of Stark in the next moment.  
“I'll show you,” Tony said, planting a solid kiss on Bruce's lips, teasing his way into his lover's mouth. Tony grasped Bruce by the hips, pulling him close until their bodies were flush against each other. Bruce sighs against the kissing, relaxing in increments. Tony's hands moved from his hips to wrap around his back, fingers gently rubbing soothing circles into the toned flesh.

Tony eventually pulled back just enough to meet Bruce's gaze, “You, Dr. Banner, need to remember, if you ever feel like you're nothing,” Bruce imperceptibly flinched, Tony's hug tightened. “You're fucking perfect, to me.”  
“Okay, Tony,” Bruce responds quietly, settling against the other man, tucking his head under the goateed chin.  
A grumbling whisper, “Fucking perfect.”


	2. How the River Feels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's answer to Tony. Undisclosed time later. Same sense of not part of any current universe used by me.
> 
> Song is "How the River Feels" by Diamond Rio, all rights to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Do not own the song, lyrics, or recognizable characters appearing in these fics. Please don't sue because I have an overactive imagination!
> 
>  
> 
> Both chapters are underbeta-ed. Wanted them out in time for Valentine's Day as they are the most distinctly "fluff" inducing of the ones currently planned.

He'd been traveling for days, trying to return home. He was tired, grouchy (though not nearly so angry that Hulk was alert), and snappish. This was his last transfer, and he was profoundly grateful. He wasn't getting any younger, and the cramped seats of the train just seemed to highlight every sore muscle in his body.

He's managed a window seat this time, and stares out into the gloom of night, wondering if Tony is expecting him, or if he'd given up on Bruce's return to New York. Loneliness had set in on Bruce almost immediately as he left 6 months earlier, heading out on another escapism round to a Third World country. He'd missed Tony, and everything about him, almost as soon as he'd left Stark Tower proper. But knew logically that they needed the space, the time apart, even if his heart completely disagreed.

His seat mate finally joined him, the headphones obvious, and blaring. He catches a snippet of song:

_Didn't know I was making my way to you_

Then nothing for a few beats before he caught more.

_Finally finds the place it was always meant to be_

Bruce thinks to himself, “Is it? Am I meant to be in New York? Or just with Tony?” His thoughts chase each other the entire eight hour trip.

He arrived at Stark Tower in the early predawn, stumbling in his mind-numbing weariness.  
“Welcome back, Dr. Banner” came JARVIS's quiet tones, as the door swished open before him.  
“Morning, JARVIS. Who's here today?”, he asks, stepping through the portal. It's a private entrance, only accessible by the Avengers, and their appointed designates.  
“Everyone is present, sir. But only Captain Rogers, and Agents Romanov, Barton, and Coulson are awake and on the communal promenade,” JARVIS's voice floats from various speakers as Bruce moves down a dimly lit hall to an elevator that ultimately leads to the floors established as the living areas for the team.  
“Okay, good I guess. Do I still have?”, he starts to say. JARVIS interrupts him.  
“If I may sir, Mr. Stark left explicit instructions that you were to be shown directly to the penthouse.”  
“Of course he did,” Bruce stopped just outside the open elevator, contemplating. He's already here, so he can't just turn around and go find a hotel. Besides, he's just too damn tired to do more than grunt at the inevitability of it all and step into the elevator. The silent ride up is only broken when Bruce requests help to figure out that random piece of lyric he'd overheard on the train.  
JARVIS is easily able to provide all the pertinent info and Bruce requests a run through of the song for the ride. It's a country song, easily 16 years old, and its words have Bruce leaning against the wall of the elevator, eyes closed, just to let the meaning wash over him.

_They say for everyone, there's that certain one; Out there, somewhere_   
_I'd been looking hard, searching every heart; Getting nowhere_   
_Didn't know I was making my way back to you_   
_Now I know how the river feels; When it reaches the sea_   
_And finally finds the place; It was always meant to be_   
_Holding fast, home at last; Knowing the journey's through_   
_Lying here with you; I know how the river feels_   
_Miles of loneliness, now make perfect sense; Here beside you_   
_Tears like water fall, it was worth it all; Just to find you_   
_And yours are the last arms I'll run to_   
_Now I know how the river feels; When it reaches the sea_   
_And finally finds the place; It was always meant to be_   
_Holding fast, home at last; Knowing the journey's through_   
_Lying here with you; I know how the river feels_   
_Oh, I know how the river feels_

The song repeated a second time before Bruce arrived at the penthouse. As the doors the to elevator opened, Bruce requested, “Save that to my personal playlist please, JARVIS.”  
“Of course, sir.”

He dropped his bag near the couch in the living room and kicked off his shoes there. Tony wasn't sprawled on the couch, which was a good sign.  
“He's not in the lab, is he?”, he asked JARVIS.  
“No sir. He's actually in bed, asleep,” was the prompt reply.  
“Hm, will wonders never cease. Thank you JARVIS, for everything.”  
“Always, sir,” and the AI went to his silent, monitoring mode. Bruce shuffled to the bedroom, where he was greeted by the sight of Tony curled around the pillows, bare from the waist up, with the sheets crumpled and tangled around his legs. The arc reactor's normal blue glow muffled by the white goods of the bed.

Bruce quietly sat on the edge of the bed, sighing. He ran a hand through his curls, tumbling them even more. He strips his socks off and then tried to quickly unbutton his pale blue shirt, but fumbled every other button and soon began to quietly curse. The low rumble of his voice caused Tony to stir behind him.  
“Wha?”, he grunted, rolling over, scrubbing at his eyes, “Bruce?”  
Bruce curses again, shirt half undone, and looked over his shoulder, “Yeah, I'm home, babe.” He reached out and caressed Tony's exposed arm down to his hand, and tangled their fingers together.  
“How long?”, Tony mumbled, still more than half asleep.  
“Just got in. Go back to sleep. I'm headed there myself, as soon as I get this damn shirt off,” Bruce grumbled, fussing with the buttons again. Tony smirks and lent a hand. Between the two of them, the shirt finally came off, and Bruce shucked off the under shirt. Tony took care of his belt and pants fly so the physicist could just eel out of them as he pushed Tony to get him to shove over in bed. Bruce slipped between the sheets as Tony rearranged the pillows for their intended use before being claimed in the strong arm grip of the other man.  
“Tony,” Bruce murmured into his lover's hair, tugging him close.  
“Hm?” was the sleepy reply.  
“I'm home at last. My journey is through, and I'm where I'm meant to be,” Bruce said, not at all cryptic at o'dark thirty.  
“Good. 'Bout time,” Tony replied, shifting a bit for comfort, and drifting off to sleep, happy at last.  
Bruce smiled, and fell asleep, the refrain of the song echoing in his head. Even the Hulk was nearly purring in contentedness at being home.

_It was worth it all, just to find you_   
_And yours are the last arms I'll run to_   
_Now I know how the river feels_   
_When it reaches the sea_   
_And finally find the place_   
_It was always meant to be_


End file.
